Chapter 5 Six

The car Elena sent arrived at precisely 10:28 a.m.

A sleek black Bentley with tinted windows and a chauffeur who greeted her with a soft "Mrs. Blackwood," and opened the door like she was made of glass.

Mia sat on the plush leather seat, her hands fidgeting in her lap as the city slid past in morning scenery. She wore a soft cream sundress and black flats, safe, sweet, perfectly Mia. But already, she felt like she was being transported somewhere she didn't quite belong.

The moment she stepped into Maison Lila, that feeling only deepened.It wasn't loud or flashy. Just quiet elegance. The kind that whispered generational wealth. Waiters in black, napkins pressed with gold thread, fresh roses on every table.

"Mia, darling!" Elena rose from her table near the back, dressed in a white silk blouse and wide-leg Chanel trousers, sunglasses perched in her hair like a crown. She kissed Mia's cheeks warmly. "You look adorable.

Thank you Elena, Mia replied with a cool smile. She followed her and sat down at the table. They ordered brunch and had light cool conversations.

After brunch lemon pastries, champagne, and Elena's firm insistence that Mia absolutely needed to stop wearing shoes that didn't make noise when she walked they made their way into the heart of luxury shopping.

Dior. Valentino. Elie Saab.

And finally, La Rue, through out the whole trip into different stores, Mia stood her ground about not wanting to buy things she didn't need despite Elena insistence.

"I know that face," Elena said, slipping her sunglasses down to study Mia with a gleam in her eyes. "You're already trying to calculate how much everything costs."

Mia gave a shy smile, adjusting her soft cream sundress as she trailed after her mother-in-law into La Rue, one of the city's most exclusive couture showrooms. "I just... don't really need anything this fancy."

Elena turned, one manicured hand on her hip. "Mia. You're a Blackwood. And this is your first event as an official member of our family.You don't 'need' a $6,000 gown. You wear it so other women at the gala don't mistake you for the catering staff."

Mia blinked. "I-what?"

"I'm joking," Elena said airily. "Mostly."

They were directed into a private room by one of the hostess and a row of dreamy looking even gowns Elena had requested for earlier in the week was brought.

Mia stood stiffly beside a row of evening gowns, clutching her purse like it could shield her from all the attention.

"You are the only daughter I'll ever have," Elena said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "And I'm going to enjoy dressing you up like my personal doll."

"I've never really been into shopping..." Mia mumbled.

"I know you always avoid it like your life depends on it" Elena smiled. "Now, let's talk priorities. First a showstopper dress for the gala. Second a new perfume. Third, something lacy and barely legal for under said dress."

Mia almost choked. "Excuse me?"

Elena laughed. "Lingerie, sweetheart. You've been married a year. My son should be chasing you through the halls like a wolf by now."

Mia's cheeks burned. She looked down, pretending to be very interested in a rack of beaded bodices.

Elena didn't seem to notice the awkward tension.

She simply plucked a red satin number off a hanger and held it up against Mia's body. "You've got the figure for drama. Let's show it off."

Mia blinked "Sorry. I just... I don't think I need anything this fancy."

Mia," Elena said behind her with a dramatic sigh. "If you keep looking at these dresses like they're horror novels, I'm going to faint."

"Elena..."

"No arguing. Into the dressing room. Now."

After a few trials, Elena finally approved of a one-shoulder black evening gown featuring a sheer, rhinestone-embellished corset bodice and dramatic draped satin overlay. The fitted silhouette flowed into a sleek floor-length skirt with a soft train.

Elena eyes turned immediately red when she came out, saying she looked perfect. Mia had to admit, it really looked beautiful. Mia did have an eye for beautiful things but she always felt a little bit awkward like she was trying too hard, thus she always went for simple.

After they settled on the dress, next Elena sat her down on the sofa after she changed and ordered for clutches.

Elena turned to grab a nearby clutch, her voice suddenly bright and casual. "So... when are you going to give me grandbabies?"

Mia froze.

"Elena," she said softly, her face flushing crimson.

"I'm serious. It's been a year. My son needs something other than board meetings and whiskey. I want noise in that big house. Little feet. Tiny tantrums. You'd make the most beautiful mother."

Mia lowered her gaze. "We haven't really talked about that."

"Pfft. Men never talk. They act. You just give him a reason. Most times that's why women just go ahead and get pregnant.

The words stung, even though they weren't meant to.

Because Elena didn't know the truth.

She didn't know that Damian had never touched her.

That the only kiss they'd shared was just a quick, soft peck on the lips in front of the cameras at their tiny, strategic wedding ceremony. A marriage forged out of pressure and business. Duty. Contracts.

Not love. Not desire.

Not even friendship.

Elena continued browsing, blissfully unaware.

That he looked through her. Walked past her. Slept in the same house like a stranger carved from stone.

But Mia only nodded. "I'll think about it."

"Good girl," Elena said warm"Now-if we're doing this properly, we need heels, earrings, and one perfume that makes men forget how to speak."

Mia opened her mouth. Then closed it.

By the time they left La Rue, Mia had a sleek black gown in a garment bag, two pairs of heels dangerously tall, and a new perfume that smelled like jasmine, vanilla, and temptation bottled in crystal.

She also had a quiet ache blooming in her chest.

That evening, the house was silent when Mia returned.

She walked through the marble foyer slowly, her footsteps the only sound. Damian's car wasn't in the drive.

She set the bags down in their bedroom and unzipped the gown. Hung it on the closet door like a talisman. A question. A weapon.

Would he notice?

Would he see her?

Would it matter?

She slipped out of her dress, took a shower and into a cotton nightgown, curling beneath the covers with her thoughts still spinning. Her hand drifted across the mattress, to his side.

She closed her eyes and thought of Elena's voice:

"Give him a reason."

Mia let out a soft, shaky sigh.

"I wish I knew how."

She fell asleep still thinking about him.

Still wondering if beauty alone could make a man love what he'd never seen.

Still hoping.